! ! O Best Beloved

In the dark unsleep of restless night, in the black heaviness of siesta in the sun, in the enchantments of the world, in a day of future dreams, the Lord can seem so far away; too far to know, too far to call, in the emptiness of heart; in the drowning whirlpool of the head; is your head already sunk upon your breast? O dearest - O beloved of the Lord - your eyes are nearest to Him now! too near even, for your arms to hold; for His image is already there, sketched upon your heart in gold and silver, emerald and rose, fragrant as a garden freshly watered from the fountain that eternal plays; His eyes are shining with the thought of you; He waits there as a child, impatiently awaiting His companion bursting through the gate to play together in that garden without walls; for, remember that He made you so to play with Him; don’t keep Him waiting; it’s so short a distance from your humbled head, there, to His image in your heart; open all your senses to His bliss: run, run…laugh; go play with Him… He knows more games to play than any could devise; run, run… laugh; go play with Him… * (Sri Vaasudevaananda Saraswati,1999)